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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468566">get up, get out there</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scensate/pseuds/scensate'>scensate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Blood and Injury, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Minor Violence, Polyamory, Vigilantism, a majority of this is yearning for domesticity and not actually violent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:49:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scensate/pseuds/scensate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“There’s something suspicious about him. My sixth sense is tingling. I can feel it.”</p>
  <p>"I don't know. If there really were superheroes or secret agents or ghosts or whatever in this world, we would not be lucky enough for them to live next door."</p>
</blockquote>or, in which there is absolutely something suspicious about lee chan, and it isn’t just his inability to handle his crushes on his neighbors
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Lee Chan | Dino</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Seventeen Rare Pair Fest: 2 Rare 2 Pair</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>get up, get out there</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SVTRarePairFest2">SVTRarePairFest2</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Prompt:</b><br/>Seungkwan and Hansol move into their first apartment together. They expect lazy Sunday mornings, maybe a small dog in the near future. They don't expect Lee Chan: Vigilante Extraordinaire to live next door.</p><p>(Is he really a vigilante or just a sleep deprived guy with a dangerous job? They aren't sure, but they keep seeing him half naked and bruised, so.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hansol wakes up with one thought in mind - today would be the last day he would be waking up without Seungkwan by his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought is a constant reminder throughout the day. It comes when he’s closing the door to his shared apartment with Jihoon and Junhui for the last time, and when Seungkwan and his mother are smiling at him from their rented moving van. It comes when he and Seungkwan are lugging up their boxes up the stairwell, and when they’re introducing themselves (as roommates, as boyfriends) to their new neighbor Mingyu, who has really helpful and buff arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the thought returns once more when Hansol and Seungkwan are assembling their new bed frame, sweating and squinting at the poor instructions. This would be the bed that they would be sleeping on together, waking up together, for as long as the foreseeable future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a while in between throwing pillows at each other, but eventually the new bedsheets from Hansol’s mom make it over the mattress. Unsurprisingly, Seungkwan takes the chance to push him down into the bed - their bed - and kiss him senseless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Babe," Hansol says, pulling away. "I love you, but we literally haven't unpacked anything else."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever," Seungkwan says. "We have all the time in the world now." He buries his face into Hansol's shirt, and Hansol knows his cheeks must be burning. Even after all these years, Seungkwan still only ever gets shy when he’s this affectionate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Hansol thinks, yeah, I guess we do have time, and thinks that nothing could be more perfect than this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's been a week since Seungkwan and Hansol had moved in together, and in the middle of their afternoon nap, Seungkwan has a thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hansol-ah,” says Seungkwan, suddenly sitting up alert.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, babe,” says Hansol. His fingers stay lazy, tracing patterns on Seungkwan’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we have neighbors? Why haven’t we met any of them yet besides Mingyu?" Seungkwan says, feeling himself grow increasingly panicked. "Doesn’t that make us awful people if we move in and don't introduce ourselves?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol’s eyes stay closed, but Seungkwan watches as his eyebrows furrow slightly like he’s thinking. “One, yes, we have neighbors. People live here, it's an entire apartment complex. Two, I’m not sure. They might have opposite schedules from us? Three, they didn’t introduce themselves either, so maybe they’re equally as awful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan makes a noise of agreement. “You’re right. They must be awful, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding, he slowly settles back under the covers and closes his eyes in peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” says Hansol, holding him closer. Then, after a thoughtful pause, “Or. Maybe they don’t even know we moved in at all, and then we really are the awful ones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Seungkwan shoots out of bed like it's suddenly on fire. He grabs the nearest decent-looking shirt, watching as Hansol finally opens his eyes just to give him a pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What'd you get up for," whines Hansol. It's cute enough that Seungkwan almost jumps straight back to bed with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he shakes his head and straightens out his shirt. He has a mission. "I'm going to introduce myself right now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What if our neighbors aren't at home? Or they're busy?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the middle of the weekend! Why wouldn’t they be home,” says Seungkwan. He regrets it immediately because not everyone follows an 8 to 5 weekday work schedule. Hansol gives him a disapproving look, and he apologizes. “Well, we’ll have to try anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, fine," says Hansol easily, slipping out from the covers and stretching his body. "I’ll go get the tangerines from Jeju. And I'll put my peach jam into little jars that we can give as gifts, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we can pick up some cookies, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we can pick up some cookies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it goes better than Seungkwan could have expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They run into a sweet mother right as she's returning from shopping, and she is delighted at the tangerines. She spends most of the time gushing over how cute they are, young and in love. Seungkwan absolutely indulges her back, because despite his shy smile, he knows that Hansol enjoys showing each other off too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then they run into Mingyu and meet his roommate Minghao, who are around the same age as both of them. They're two of the most beautiful people Seungkwan has ever seen, even though their hair is slightly mussed up when they open their door. Minghao and Mingyu claim to be friends, but Seungkwan is slightly suspicious. Either way, Mingyu is delighted at their gifts and insists that he will bake for them sometime, while Minghao sends them off with a lovely smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they circle back to their own apartment door, all of their gifts have been happily claimed. Seungkwan is a little disappointed that their neighbor directly adjacent to them isn’t home, seeing as they share a wall and all. But he thinks they’ll have to run into each other eventually. Seungkwan and Hansol will be here for a little while, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clock reads two in the morning when Seungkwan stirs awake, all thanks to Hansol and his stupid phone that he actually keeps on sound instead of silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's up, babe," groans Seungkwan, rubbing at his eyes. "It's not Jihoon again, is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is Jihoon," says Hansol, eyes just as groggy but focused on his phone screen. "Let me take this. It's probably nothing urgent. He's just been working on some stuff."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Some stuff. Thanks. You wake up for Jihoon needing anything and never for me,” Seungkwan pouts, even as he shoos Hansol outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s colder without Hansol, and almost eerily quiet without his snoring, but Seungkwan is sleepy enough that he barely notices. Time passes and he almost drifts off again, until he feels Hansol slide back under the covers a little while later. He catches one glimpse of Hansol’s blank expression and it immediately wakes him back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything alright?” Seungkwan says, because Hansol looks like he’s seen a ghost and frankly he isn’t ready to fight off a ghost in his pajamas right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Um. I think I met our neighbor in 207.” And nothing more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan blinks. “And?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol turns to him, his nose crinkled. “And they were just outside. Shirtless. And with, like, a lot of bruises on their back–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You stared at them shirtless?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not on purpose!" says Hansol. “I was just sitting outside against our door, and then they came up the stairs, without a shirt, and we made eye contact.” He pauses, then adds with a stupidly wide smile, “Actually, it was kind of cute, ‘cause then they stopped and gave me an awkward wave before bolting to their door. He's our neighbor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan gapes open. “Well, did you ask him if he was okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause. “I forgot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Seungkwan starts mumbling furiously and kicks himself out of bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry! He ran away from me!" says Hansol apologetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan drags him along back outside. He only starts to think that this may be a bad idea when he's face-to-face with the neighbor's door, and his hand had already knocked twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If their neighbor really did come home late or bruised, was it really any of his business anyway? Was this too forward? This was way too forward, but Seungkwan doesn't think he could ever just sit around if he knew someone was hurt–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides him, Hansol squeezes his hand, and Seungkwan releases a breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the door opens a short moment later, Seungkwan isn't sure what he is expecting.There's just a boy that looks around their age, who blinks at them with the slightest hint of suspicion, dressed in a perfectly nice and not bloody t-shirt and shorts, mismatched dangly earrings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi. Sorry to intrude,” says Seungkwan, smiling sweetly, "but my boyfriend said he saw you coming home late and I was wondering if you were alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The neighbor blinks again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Briefly, Seungkwan wonders if Hansol had simply been hallucinating a bruised figure in his mind. But he couldn't be, right? They've spent too many nights together for Seungkwan to never realize that Hansol might be capable of crazy shit in his sleep–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's… really sweet of you guys," the neighbor says finally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Um. Yeah," Hansol says, even though he deserves no credit for this. It was Seungkwan's idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The neighbor slowly breaks into a smile, and releases his arms from where they had been folded. "Thank you for worrying about me, but I promise I am fine. I just work late hours at a restaurant."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan nods slowly, even though he is clueless as how to connect the dots between working at a restaurant and coming home shirtless and bruised. He steals a glance at Hansol, whose brain must be racing with the same question. His eyes are slightly widened, but would appear otherwise normal to anyone else. Actually, it all feels very normal despite the fact that it is almost pitch black outside</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, that’s nice,” says Seungkwan. “But my boyfriend said that you had come back shirtless? And like… with bruises.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Yeah. That does seem kind of crazy, doesn’t it?” the neighbor laughs, and launches off animatedly. “It just gets really hot in the back of the restaurant during summer. So sometimes I take my shirt off when I’m closing, and then since this apartment complex is so close, I just end up walking back home without putting it back on. I know it’s really inappropriate, but it’s late enough that nobody ends up seeing me. Actually, you’re the first people that I've ever run into," he says, and rubs at the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wow,” says Hansol. “Lucky us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the bruises?” Seungkwan asks impatiently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! I’m actually a dancer. And we’ve been working with poles lately, but I think my body is still getting used to it,” he says, nodding enthusiastically. And Seungkwan doesn’t know much about dance, but the boy speaks with such an air of confidence about him that it wouldn’t have mattered what he said. Seungkwan would have believed him anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol makes an affirmative noise. “That’s really cool," he says, at the same time that Seungkwan uncontrollably blurts, "Wait, I want to see."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, the neighbor is unfazed, or doesn't hear him at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he says simply. “Um. I would love to learn more about you guys, too, but I think I’m a little beat after today."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, no kidding. I'm really sorry that we intruded when it's so late," apologizes Seungkwan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't worry about it. I'm glad I could meet you guys and help clear things up. Wouldn't want you guys thinking I'm a mafia boss or something," he says, and gives a small laugh. "I’m Chan, by the way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seungkwan. And this is my boyfriend, Hansol. We just moved in last week to 206. It’s really nice to meet you, too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol chimes in. “Let’s talk more at a normal hour, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Chan gives an eager nod, happy despite the fact that his neighbors practically grilled him for explanations at two in the morning. Seungkwan would feel more guilty if Chan wasn't so nice. So damn nice, that he had to be hiding something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they return to their apartment, and upon closing the door behind him, Seungkwan says, “There’s something suspicious about him. My sixth sense is tingling. I can feel it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's nothing more suspicious about him than the average person," says Hansol calmly. "I don't know. If there really were secret agents or superheroes or ghosts in this world, we would not be lucky enough for them to live next door."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan groans because as intriguing as the idea is, he knows that Hansol always speaks the sensible truth. Still, he can’t quite shake his curiosity about Chan - or stop thinking about how cute he was, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can't believe you admitted that you wanted to see his pole dancing," Hansol teases out of nowhere, and Seungkwan sputters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm sorry! You were right! He’s kind of cute,” whines Seungkwan. "And we're an art appreciating couple!" Hansol laughs before tucking themselves back into bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is absolutely something suspicious about Lee Chan, and it is something that only four people in existence - part of SVT (SEXY VIGILANTE THIEVES) - have the honor of knowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chan, Soonyoung, the treasure should be in the room at the end of the hallway,” comes Wonwoo’s voice from his in-ear. (Person #1. Leader that somehow tolerates all of them, handles all operations behind the scenes, probably the most important in the team but acts like he isn’t.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heading over,” Chan whispers back, eyeing his destination a few stretches away. He looks over at Soonyoung and they nod at each other, a wordless agreement. (Person #2. Main infiltrator alongside Chan, moves in ways that should be physically impossible, annoyingly good at using his brain and getting them out of tricky situations.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan is incredibly light and agile on his feet, having trained for all of his life as a dancer alongside Soonyoung. This comes especially in handy when he’s navigating around the corners of an unfamiliar building - a casino hotel, was it? Chan couldn’t say for sure, because the back passageways of all buildings look the same. Either way, he cannot afford to have even his shadow come into contact with anything or anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He floats like a feather across the dark corridor, puts on a show for anyone who might be watching his silhouette dressed in black through the cameras. Soonyoung tells him off, but he’s the one who he learned from in the first place. They know the footage will end up deleted, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they reach the foot of the door, Chan bows gracefully and sets his glove on the handle. Behind this door should lay their treasure, or what they call the target of interest of this particular mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the treasure isn’t so much a treasure as it is a manifestation of wealth. The item is so meaningless to Chan, some piece of diamond jewelry that the casino had for some reason prided itself on. But the diamond fetches a hefty price, and it’ll be enough to give back to communities who need it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan takes a deep breath, and tries to push the door. It doesn’t open. He tries again, and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey. Hey,” Chan says, with increasing urgency. “It’s not opening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But I should have already disabled all the locks in the building," Wonwoo insists, and Chan resists the urge to be a brat because clearly the door isn't budging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we know how to open doors, genius,” Soonyoung says for him. “There must be something else we're missing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand, there shouldn’t be anything else we didn’t account for–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's me!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, a head seemingly emerges upside down from the ceiling, and nearly gives Chan a heart attack as he stumbles onto the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What the hell!" he screams, at the same time that Soonyoung cries out, "That was not necessary!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's me that you're missing," says Jeonghan as he jumps down elegantly from the ceiling vent and reveals himself fully upright. (Person #3. Their jack of all vigilante trades, sometimes enjoys socializing with the villains, lives way too close to the edge for comfort but has a good heart.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has a billboard worthy smile across his face, like he had been planning this scheme to scare the shit out of his friends for years and it had all come to this moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you guys waiting for?” Jeonghan says teasingly, keeping his eye contact with Chan. He nods his head up, and pushes his chest out. “Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan doesn’t stop glaring at him, even if the full effect of it must be hidden by his mask. “And how do you expect us to climb all the way up there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, I can’t expect anything from you guys,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head. Then, he pulls the damn treasure out of his pocket. “That’s why I went inside and did it myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” screams Wonwoo’s voice suddenly, and it sends a screech through Chan’s in-ear. “When did you sneak away like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought it would be fun,” says Jeonghan. His eyes are as dazzling as the stolen item.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Chan or Soonyoung can react, Wonwoo’s voice stops them. “Wait, guys,” he says, his tone dark, “there’s someone around the corner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, all three of them jerk their heads back and stand with caution, fists curled and emergency weapons in reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan hears the faintest thudding sound as he slowly tiptoes closer, and then his ears become filled with the noise of someone humming. The sweet voice couldn’t be anybody other than Seokmin. (Person #4. The team’s emergency weapon by brute arm strength, would never hurt someone unless they truly deserved it, good at sweet talking only because he actually means it.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seokmin’s smile brightens at the sight of his teammates, uncharacteristically happy for somebody who has a body slung over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey guys, did you claim the treasure yet?” he chirps, readjusting the body of what appears to be a security guard passed out cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um. Yeah, Jeonghan did,” Soonyoung answers, trailing off. “Is that person… okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this guy? Yeah, I just knocked him out since he attacked me first, but he should be fine in the morning,” Seokmin says. “Don’t worry, I’ll set his body somewhere comfortable real quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan shares a look with Jeonghan and Soonyoung, before they’re all nodding in unanimous approval.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good job, you guys,” Wonwoo says from their in-ears then. “There shouldn’t be anyone else in your area now. You can follow our escape route. Hurry, so I can get to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the treasure securely tucked into his sack, Chan slips out of the window, lands steadily on the ground, and breathes in the rotten air of the stupidly rich Seongbuk district. Chan takes one last look back at the building, and its golden lights shine on through the night. This casino undoubtedly will not miss its treasure, and will find a means to replace it with corporate ease. And maybe they’ll be back once they do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks between Soonyoung, Jeonghan, and Seokmin, the same expression written all over their faces, before they’re all making a mad dash for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Chan doesn’t have a taste for labels, but if he absolutely had to put a description to his nightly activities, it would fall along the lines of vigilantism - or maybe even survival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's never asked any of the others, but he thinks that they would have similar roots, too. You can only live in the system for so long before you can no longer resist the urge to do something about it. His work has become akin to survival, and he will leave it at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On his rare days off, Chan is reminded of how painfully normal he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drags himself out of bed after sleeping in too long, takes a long look at his refrigerator, and almost gets angry at it for being empty. Unfortunately, it’s mostly his fault, and so he begrudgingly decides he needs to make a trip to the grocery store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After grabbing bowls of premade food and a handful of fruits so his mother will be happy, Chan predictably finds himself in the snack aisle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s thinking of just splurging on kkokkalcorn for himself, but he thinks he should buy some sweeter snacks for Soonyoung and Seokmin as well. He’s in between honey butter chips and Pepero, when suddenly he hears his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Chan?" says a voice, and Chan recoils back and raises his arm on instinct, almost crashing into the shelf behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, he's in the middle of a normal grocery store, and there is no sign of danger anywhere. There's just a pouting Seungkwan to his right, who is holding onto a basket with two hands in front of him. Seungkwan, his new neighbor, who he almost accidentally revealed his identity to just a few days ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, you don’t have to jump back like that! I am not that scary!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” says Chan sheepishly, quickly putting down his arm. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you here, Seungkwan-ssi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need for that. You can call me hyung. And hey, did you not want to see me?" Seungkwan huffs. His tone is light despite the accusation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, that's not what I meant! I just didn’t think we would meet again so soon."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But we're neighbors now! You have to get used to it!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan looks like he’s really enjoying this, and a small smile tugs at Chan’s lips. “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty good at avoiding people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you ever want to avoid this?” Seungkwan says, and cups his hands at his chin like a flower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan suddenly doesn’t know how to react, and hides his blush with his hands. “Whatever you say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a beat of silence, where Seungkwan takes an extended look at Chan's grocery basket then. He suddenly feels a little bit exposed for his mediocre taste in food, and a lot embarrassed when he compares it with Seungkwan's own cart of fresh produce. It’s a good thing he hasn’t reached the alcohol aisle yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Seungkwan doesn’t make any comments. Instead, he gives a handsome smile and asks, “Do you want to continue shopping together? We can walk back together, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In Chan's brain, all of the neon signs are flashing and telling him to run far, far away from this. Forming relationships with anybody - much less a neighbor - is risky enough when he can name a handful of people who want his head on a stick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Seungkwan is smiling at him innocently, the same way that he did the first night they met. Even when Hansol and Seungkwan were rightfully suspicious of his whereabouts, they seemed to push him only out of genuine concern. They must be nice people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it comes out of Chan’s mouth before he realizes it. “That would be great. What else do you need?” When Seungkwan brightens up, he can’t help but smile back, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Seungkwan ends up dragging him through the meat aisle, and then the spice aisle as he and Hansol have just moved in and still need to stock up on the basics. Chan is the furthest thing from a chef, but he pretends that he knows what Seungkwan is blabbering about. When Seungkwan is excited about a particular sauce, what else is Chan supposed to do besides throw it into his own basket?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when they make it all the way back to their respective apartment doors, Seungkwan asks for his number, and Chan would be plain stupid to deny that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan digs his phone out of his pocket, and foolishly opens his phone right under Seungkwan’s eager eye. He silently thanks the stars that he didn’t have any random texts from Seokmin about self-defense techniques, or any weird memes about being a sexy criminal from Jeonghan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan puts in his contact and gives him a smile that makes his cheeks rounder. “There. I think Hansol and I might try making something special soon, so I’ll let you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds amazing. I’ll let you know if I intend on cooking something special too,” Chan says, and thinks about it some more. “Or if I ever order too much food and don’t want it to go to waste. That seems like a more likely scenario.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan laughs along and rubs at his arm. “Either way, we would both love that. Feel free to talk to us any time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan laughs, and looks down at his feet. “I think I might have to take you up on that offer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don't be too confident when you say that. You might regret it,” Seungkwan says, raising an eyebrow as he slowly backs away, like he was the one who was hiding something. But Seungkwan’s tone is playful, and he’s smiling even as he types the wrong passcode into his door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s been a while since he had met anyone who wasn’t SVT, or who wasn’t trying to get revenge on him, and much less anybody as friendly as Seungkwan. With Seungkwan, making friends seems like a breeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Chan ends up back in his apartment trying to cram all the cooking ingredients that he knows he will never use into a cupboard, but it’s all worth it for the smile on Seungkwan’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next few weeks pass by in a blur of looking after his parent’s studio, developing some new lesson plans, and going about his life as a perfectly commonplace young adult. On the occasional day past sunset, he’s making lockpicks with Wonwoo, training alongside Seokmin, and scoping out the city for intel with Jeonghan and Soonyoung.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan texts him once that they’re ordering a pizza. Chan politely rejects two hours later, claiming to be busy with work. It’s not necessarily wrong, because technically work could be considered protecting the perimeter of a neighborhood from a raid of thieves. He sends the text while Jeonghan finishes zip tying up their pile of enemies, and Seungkwan immediately sends him back a sad emoticon. Chan yearns over it more than he should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan texts him another night that their neighbor had baked dozens of cookies, and was looking to share them with anyone and everyone. In his head, he runs through the faces of the people he’s passed by near the apartment complex, and doesn’t come up with anyone who would be nice enough to give him a cookie. Unfortunately, Chan had been in the middle of pursuing a criminal that was far beyond the scope of the police, and so this offer had gone unaccepted, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is about the time Chan realizes that he doesn’t have an extensive list of friends, for good reason. Sure, he’s used to keeping his distance under the guise of not wanting to involve anyone else, in the case that someone would finally come after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the team looks after him well and is arguably all that he could need. But they’re all a couple of years older than him, have paired off as Seokmin and Wonwoo then Soonyoung and Jeonghan way before Chan had even joined the team, and sometimes he feels out of place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s being ridiculous, Chan thinks as he steps out of his apartment for a breather. His hyungs would show him nothing but love if he reached out to them. He should know that and he shouldn’t be afraid to ask them for something as simple as getting dinner. They wouldn’t want him to starve in his own apartment. Still, would they really want to see him again if today was the lone day they get a break from each other?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he’s thinking about backing out and retreating back to his apartment, a voice snaps him out of his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chan!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seungkwan,” Chan says, recognizing as the familiar head of brown hair emerges from the top of the staircase. Hansol follows right behind him, shopping bags in tow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where have you been!” Seungkwan exclaims, and his energy makes Chan feel like he’s actually reuniting with an old childhood friend rather than a neighbor he’s really only met once or twice. He comes closer and takes hold of Chan’s shoulder, giving them a squeeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, hyung,” Chan says, rubbing the back of his neck as Seungkwan lets go. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I invited you to go shopping with us! And you never responded,” says Seungkwan, a small frown tugging at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did?” Chan says, and checks his phone. Sure enough, there’s a notification from Seungkwan that he missed from a few hours ago, while he was doing nothing but sitting around and moping. “Oh. You did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol reaches over and touches his shoulder lightly. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ve been busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next time,” Chan says, feeling guilty. “I’m so sorry, hyung. I have been pretty busy with work lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan’s body droops over. "How are you always working? We’re never going to see each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well. The bills don’t really pay themselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess everything must be more expensive when you live alone. Why don’t you live with anyone else? Doesn’t it get lonely?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Hansol gives him a harsh look, and Seungkwan straightens up and immediately apologizes. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m in no position to judge you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay. You’re right,” Chan admits, laughing a bit pityingly to himself, and starts talking before he can control it. “When I was younger, I wanted to leave the house as soon as I could. I don’t know why my parents supported me, but I was very fortunate that we could afford it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “That's okay. That's all in the past. And you're doing fine now," hums Hansol sincerely. It means more to Chan than he'd admit. "But there’s still always people around. All the people at the grocery store, the people we pass by at the park. And you have us right next door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do have us,” adds Seungkwan eagerly. “And Mingyu and Minghao have said they noticed you around and wanted to talk to you, too. You haven’t met them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan racks his brain trying to put the names to faces, but falls short. “No, I… I haven’t met them yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’d love them. They’re around our age, too. Maybe we could all get dinner sometime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. Yeah, that would be great," Chan says, nodding along and feeling something warm settle in his stomach. Before he can stop himself, he says, “Actually, have you guys eaten yet?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol and Seungkwan look at each other wordlessly, and Chan swears they could be communicating telepathically. But eventually, they nod at each other, and a smile blooms across both of their faces in sync.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They end up at a small fried chicken place nearby, which Chan had never even known to exist before, but Hansol and Seungkwan had frequented in the short time that they've been living here. And after, they end up stumbling upon an ice cream shop by accident, and it's hard to deny Seungkwan's face of bliss at the list of flavors. At the end of the day, he returns to his own apartment, a warm satisfaction in his chest, and promises to himself that they’ll do it again sometime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan is heading back from the studio, headphones plugged in and tuned to a volume that lets him drown out his surroundings. He rarely has a chance to let his body loose as this, to let himself roam the streets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels himself fade into the background, and almost makes it all the way back home as an inconspicuous figure, all the way until he races up the staircase of his apartment building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol is here leaning back against the wall, eyes closed and legs spread out across the walkway. For a second, Chan almost thinks he’s dead, but he notices the slow rise and fall of his shoulders, like he was meditating. He doesn’t seem to notice Chan’s presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can think about it, the words come out of his mouth. "Are you okay? Did Seungkwan kick you out or something?" Chan jokes, and worries for a brief second that maybe Hansol really did get kicked out or something and that would be horribly insensitive-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Hansol opens his eyes and seems to find it amusing, if the lazy smile on his face is anything to go by. "Chan," he says. "No, don't worry. I just like sitting outside and getting air, sometimes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not walking outside and getting air?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nah. Just sitting."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah." Chan nods in understanding, and thinks that sitting with Hansol doesn't sound so bad. "I just came back from the studio. Do you mind if I sit and enjoy the air with you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure," he agrees easily, and Chan lets his body rest against the wall. Their apartment doesn’t have too grand of a view, save for the apartment building running parallel on the opposite side of the street. But it’s nice, and Hansol seems to be content watching the few people who pass them by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a beat of silence, Hansol says, "So, dancing?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Chan slightly by surprise, but it’s a question he’s used to. “Um. Yeah. I’ve been dancing since I was little. My parents own a studio and I help teach lessons sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s really cool. My parents are actually both artists. Painters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you an artist too, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol snorts. “No, definitely not. I couldn’t draw to save a life.” There’s another pause. “What do you like about dancing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan takes a long look at Hansol. If it were anybody else, Chan would think that they were humoring him, asking small questions to fill up the space in the air rather than out of actual interest. But Hansol stares back, and his eyes are kindly curious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Chan feels oddly comfortable, telling Hansol about how he grew up with a love of performance. There’s something addicting about working on something to show off, of spending countless hours polishing for the single moment when all eyes in the room are trained on you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow. That’s really impressive,” says Hansol, his voice full of awe. "I can tell you're good just by how you talk about it. You must really love it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," says Chan, and he feels his face grow warmer. "Thank you. I do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, neither of them say anything. The noises from the street beneath them become louder and fill in the empty spaces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Actually, I kind of want to try dancing in a professional studio," Hansol says suddenly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I've never met someone who was so passionate about it. I think I'd like to try it myself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan hums. "We teach beginner classes sometimes. You're definitely welcome to come any time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We? Does that mean you'd be teaching me?" Hansol says, and his tone of voice is unrecognizable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If that's what you wanted," Chan says, and feels his entire body go warm as Hansol continues to stare at him through long eyelashes. He doesn't take his eyes off him for a second during a conversation, Chan learns, like he was the only person in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We might have to start from the very, very beginning,” Hansol jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well - you make music, right?” Chan says, with more force than he intended. He takes a step back. “So you’re probably better at dancing than you think. You seem like someone who is really in tune to their thoughts. It probably shows in your music, and it’ll show in your dance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol smiles then, and looks down at the ground for the first time since they've been here. “You’re flattering me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hansol finally meets his gaze again, his eyes are softer. “I’ve never gotten a compliment like that before. Thanks, Chan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you have to let me actually listen to your music. Maybe I’ll change my mind, then,” Chan teases, and Hansol laughs along easily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the door next to them flings open and barely misses Hansol, who doesn’t even react. Chan would be more impressed if he wasn’t surrounded by people he sometimes felt were actual superhumans. In Hansol’s case, it must be familiarity with Seungkwan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys are having a heart to heart without me?” Seungkwan says, emerging from their apartment casually, as if he hadn't just violently slammed open the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol stands up, dusting off his pants. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll invite you next time,” is all he says, and Chan laughs at Seungkwan's pout as he gets up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s cold outside,” says Seungkwan, tugging Hansol’s body closer to his, and Chan instinctively moves closer, too. “At least come inside if you’re going to talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright. I should head back now, anyway,” Chan says, moving backwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't wanna stay for dinner today?" Hansol asks, tilting his head. "Seungkwan's mom is dropping off some food and she loves sharing it with people. She makes really good pork belly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan's stomach practically says yes on the spot, already craving the satisfaction of a warm, home-cooked meal. But his brain unhelpfully reminds him that tonight was the date of one of the first heists they’ve had in a while, and they cannot afford to miss this opportunity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That would be really nice, but I can't," he says instead, frowning. "I have work."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We can save some for you?" Hansol offers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, don’t worry about it–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really. It’s no problem.” His voice is earnest in a way that Chan realizes no matter how many times he says no, Hansol will find a means for him to accept the food, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the warmth that spreads across his cheeks is inevitable, with the way that both Hansol and Seungkwan are both looking at him almost hesitantly, and waiting for his answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure," he says, nodding shyly, before thanking them profusely. And then, because his face almost feels like it’s about to burn off, he bolts towards his apartment. The feeling doesn't go away throughout the entire night, and Chan pretends that it’s all from the thrill of their nightly adventure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And more often than not, Chan finds himself at Hansol and Seungkwan’s apartment. He tells himself that it’s out of convenience, when he’s coming home from a late practice session, or maybe a near-death experience, and Seungkwan texts him that they have extra take-out for him. It’s only natural for him to come to their apartment and enjoy the meal. It’s only being a good neighbor when he stays a little longer into the night, and enjoys a glass of wine that Minghao always brings whenever he pops in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes Hansol invites him on a morning walk when Seungkwan is too sleepy to get up after a long day before. And always, Seungkwan invites him to go grocery shopping together, because it seems he really can’t stand being alone for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it’s perfect, it’s fine, because this is what normal people with normal friends do. They see each other more often because they live in close proximity, almost like college kids sharing a dorm and always wanting to be around each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But sometimes – Chan lets himself wonder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The restaurant is neatly tucked away into the back corners of the residential district. It’s the unofficial place of gathering for their team, mostly because Seokmin declares that all of the best plots can only be imagined when everybody has a full stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not quiet enough that their little group would attract attention from outsiders, but not popular enough for them to hide away from the owners, too. And if the restaurant owner's son, Joshua, is suspicious of their frequent activity here, he says nothing. Instead, he greets everyone by name with a familiar cat-like smile, and silently sneaks in more food than they ever ordered, probably because he recognizes that they’re all the same age and always broke and starving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Chan, Wonwoo, Seokmin, and Jeonghan meet in the late afterhours at their usual booth near the speakers. Soonyoung isn’t here tonight because he’s been putting in extra time at the studio, but Chan suspects this is a lie. The studio had no upcoming showcases to prepare for or anything. Soonyoung is probably just at home with his boyfriend, and Chan really doesn’t blame him. He deserves a break, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joshua brings their food in record time, much to Chan's delight. The table soon becomes filled with a variety of colorful dishes, and Chan wastes no time digging in. If his members have anything to say about his almost vulgar way of eating, they’re too busy eating to disapprove of him, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They're left in the middle of discussing their next heist plans - infiltration into a high-end company through underground tunnels, a treasure that is displayed in plain sight - when Wonwoo says something that catches Chan off guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait," Chan says, almost choking on his noodles as he panics. “This weekend? Did we agree on that already?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes. We did agree, Chan. Multiple times." Wonwoo looks faintly amused, like he already knows Chan is about to bullshit his way out of totally forgetting their heist date. Which isn’t fair, because Chan has only forgotten about their heists twice, and once he had overslept but it’s not like he forgot that time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s just that tomorrow night, Seungkwan had invited him over to cook dinner with him and Hansol. His eagerness to try a homemade mandu recipe from his mother was explosive even over text, and Chan didn't think twice before agreeing to come over. (He did think once that maybe he was intruding on their night in, but then Hansol had sent a simple "please?" and he couldn't say no to that.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course we did. Because the building is supposed to be abandoned for a work party,” Chan nods and gives a nervous laugh, despite the guilt slowly pooling at the bottom of his stomach. “Right. Sounds good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seokmin, ever the observant one, tilts his head knowingly. “What’s wrong? Did you accidentally plan something else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What," says Chan loudly, dragging out the word. "No. That would be irresponsible."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seokmin and Wonwoo share a knowing glance, while Jeonghan suddenly starts cackling out of nowhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw, our poor little maknae. He has a date," says Jeonghan, in between baby hyena screeches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan feels his entire face go red, even though it isn’t technically a date, especially not when it's with an established couple. He doesn’t think he could explain it properly right now, so instead he slips out, "What? How did you know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't," says Jeonghan. "You just told us." His face is annoyingly smug as he pops another piece of meat into his mouth. Chan is going to crush him with his bare hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What! Why didn’t you just say so!” Seokmin says, his eyes brightening up, almost too bright for Chan to properly look at him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is it with? Are they cute?” Seokmin rambles, and Chan finds himself nodding shyly. “Oh, that’s so cute. It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date. I miss it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Chan can reiterate that it isn’t really a date, Wonwoo coughs loudly. “Anyway, good for you, Chan,” he says, almost forcefully. “But we can’t handle this without you. Jeonghan is already sitting this one out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw, don't be like that," says Jeonghan, who is still smiling from ear to ear. "I'm sure you guys have it covered. It's a weak target and you and Seokmin work well together. Oh. And Soonyoung will be there, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan gives him a grateful look, while Wonwoo looks like he is about to strangle him alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, we can handle it just fine! Let our Channie go on his date," Seokmin says, reaching over to hold Wonwoo’s hand. Then he gives Chan’s shoulder a squeeze. "But you have to make it up to us and take us on a dinner date sometime."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Predictably, Wonwoo gives in. Chan knows that he isn’t actually mad if the pink on his cheeks is anything to go by, and he still hasn’t let go of Seokmin’s hand. "Alright, alright. Tell us about your date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it’s still not technically a date - in fact, it has to be miles away from the definition of a date - but Chan splurges on the opportunity to talk about Seungkwan and Hansol, anyway. The conversation makes him feel warm all over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later that night, Soonyoung calls him and starts yelling in his ear. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a date! I’m supposed to be your favorite hyung!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a date,” Chan wails. “And it’s none of your business! And you left us for Seungcheol, so I’m hanging up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, don't you dare-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan hangs up. He waits a prompt two minutes, before dialling Soonyoung back because he loves him, and finds that he loves talking about Seungkwan and Hansol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan quickly learns that even with all three of their brains combined, they could barely consider themselves a single functional person in the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The recipe is simple enough, but too many things go wrong at once. Hansol mistakes the salt for sugar, Seungkwan almost drops their rolls of dough onto the floor, and Chan burns himself twice on the stove. It’s a miracle that they end up with any food, but ramyeon never does anyone wrong. In the end, he's so hungry that the dumplings taste like some of the best he's ever had. Made with love, as Seungkwan frequently reminded them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the dinner table, Chan takes time to look around their apartment. It's distinctly Hansol and Seungkwan, by the art on the wall and the family pictures and the souvenirs from their trips together. There’s an overflowing basket of tangerines on the kitchen counter, and a shelf full of albums that Chan has never heard of, and a manhwa series that Chan himself adores.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the apartment is the exact same layout as Chan's, but the colors feel different, made brighter with Seungkwan's laugh and Hansol's gaze. It makes even their rare beats of silence feel warmer, comfortable, and time passes by before he even realizes it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan steals a glance at the clock, and tries not to make his disappointment too obvious. "It's getting pretty late. I guess I should head back now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Already?" says Hansol. "But we were planning on watching a movie tonight. Do you like superheroes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” says Chan. “I love superheroes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then just stay. It’s not like you’ll have a dangerous walk back or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if you want, Hansol and I can also hold your hand back to your apartment door,” Seungkwan teases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Chan whines, sinking further back into the couch, “I’m only a year younger than you guys! Put on the movie, already.” He realizes he’s smack dab in the middle of the couple, but neither of them seem to mind. Seungkwan’s fingers move towards the remote anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within the first five minutes of the movie, the one person without any powers is maneuvering impossibly throughout a busy city, almost gliding through the air as they step upon multiple moving cars and trucks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, there’s no way that’s possible,” Chan comments with a mouthful of popcorn. Sure, people can move fast, but there’s no way that they’d be physically able to slide underneath cars and emerge unscathed like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a superhero movie. None of this is possible,” says Seungkwan back, and Chan stops chewing. Luckily, neither Seungkwan nor Hansol pay him any mind, eyes trained on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol hums. “If only. Our world could really use some superheroes right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, even superheroes couldn’t save us from this capitalist society,” Seungkwan says, and Chan sits up a little straighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People don’t need powers to fight against capitalism,” he says, not so subtly. Then he laughs nervously, and backtracks. “I mean. Eat the rich, right?” At that, Hansol gives him a thoughtful glance, a nod of approval.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, Chan considers staying silent for the rest of the movie. But Seungkwan bursts out laughing at one of the more overly dramatized scenes, and Chan can't help but make fun of them too. Hansol starts snickering along with them, and Chan thinks he would do anything to keep both of them laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Be wary of anybody who comes to your door today, Jeonghan warns them all one morning, and disappears from the group chat without an explanation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something cold runs through his body when he reads the message, because when there is trouble Jeonghan is the one who unroots it before it might have even revealed itself. He is intuitive, and his network of connections runs deep throughout their nation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when Jeonghan finds trouble, he's one to try and take care of it himself. Involving others is the very last step. There isn't much that Chan can do save for playing the waiting game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seokmin texts them a flurry of sad emoticons in response, and Wonwoo invites him over to his place for safety in numbers. Technically, Wonwoo extends the invite to everyone, and as much as Chan would like to stay with his hyungs, he owes Wonwoo for ditching them during their last heist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And on the chance that anything bad would happen, he wants to make sure that Seungkwan and Hansol would be safe next door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Chan takes a long shower and makes a nice breakfast for himself. He spends too much time on the couch, watching as the sun passes through the sky. But somehow this rest makes him restless, and so he finds himself working out (as part of his and Seokmin's effort for a team name change to SEXY VIGILANTE THIGHS).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan thinks that days like this are only fun when there’s somebody else right by his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that moment, a knock comes to his door. Chan freezes, mind running through the possibilities, hesitantly tiptoeing towards the door and listening closely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And on the other side, it’s just Seungkwan. He's blinking very innocently, and doesn't seem to notice the taser that Chan was gripping onto behind his back, and that he slowly slips into his back pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, his gaze seems focused elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan suddenly regrets not thinking to change out of his sweaty tank top. Shit, did he have any leftover scars or bruises? He hadn’t put on any cover up today because he wasn’t planning on seeing anyone, and he folds his arms nervously over his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Definitely a pole dancer," Seungkwan whispers, so quiet that Chan knows he must have misheard it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan blinks, letting go of a deep breath. “Sorry, I was working out. Let me clean up first-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay! I just had a quick question,” says Seungkwan, though his voice is shakier than usual. He clears his throat. "Um. I didn't think you'd actually be home, but I figured it was worth a shot."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan nods slowly. "Lucky you. What's up, hyung?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, our friends Jihoon and Junhui stopped by our apartment earlier today. And they gifted Hansol and I this plant, but I don’t actually know what I’m supposed to do with this…” Seungkwan trails off, his mouth forming a round smile. Chan realizes that Seungkwan had been holding a small plant in his hands the whole time. “I think you mentioned that you liked houseplants once? Do you think you could give me some advice for this plant?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Chan thinks that he might melt right then and there, because he doesn’t remember ever saying that he liked plants. He recognizes it immediately, long growing green stems and heart shaped leaves, and takes it carefully into his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s definitely a no-hassle species, a perfect gift for someone who’s never taken care of a plant before, Chan explains. The soil should be well-draining, so they should make sure that water doesn’t completely drip through the pot. The plant will tolerate most indirect light, but can be prone to overwatering, which seems like something that Hansol would do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan runs through his mental checklist again, and decides that should be good for now. With a smile, he holds the pot back out in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Seungkwan doesn’t take the plant back, and is looking at him wordlessly. His expression is unreadable again, the same way he had been staring when Chan first answered the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um. Should I text that to you instead?” Chan says, suddenly flustered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay, thank you,” Seungkwan says in one breath. He takes the terracotta pot, and their hands brush slightly. “That helps a lot. But also, if things go horribly wrong, would you come and fix it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could try, but I’m not really an expert,” Chan says humbly. Seungkwan shifts his neck slightly, and fixes on the extensive shelf of houseplants behind him. “I just got lucky with these!” he insists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan makes a loud, nonsensical mocking noise. Then he says, “I’ll take my leave now, but you’ll definitely be back at our place soon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Chan is about to protest again, but Seungkwan is gone before he even blinks. He doesn’t realize how long he stays standing still there, replaying their conversation over and over in his head, until some other neighbor walks past the doorway and gives him a suspicious glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready, Chan?” asks Seokmin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a second,” Chan says. He’s in the middle of a conversation with Seungkwan and Hansol about the last episode they watched together (because, yes, they've progressed to this stage where they watch full series together instead of movies and Chan doesn't know what to do with this information). And he has a lot of thoughts about the characters but he also needs to express them perfectly so that Seungkwan understands and Hansol doesn’t think he’s inarticulate-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chan, you know you can always reply to them later,” Seokmin says. His voice is light despite everything, but he’s smiling in a way that Chan knows that Seokmin will personally kill him himself if he doesn’t budge right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this act of homicide could be fair because they are scaling off the side of a building, waiting for the moment to climb to the peak and strike. Jeonghan and Soonyoung are infiltrating from within, scouting from the staircase and waiting for Seokmin and Chan to give everyone the signal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says quickly, and then jams the send button. There’s a typo at the end of the sentence that haunts him as they're climbing up, skyscrapers towering around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the butterflies that have quietly settled in his stomach are chased away by heat, by the exhilaration that runs from his brain to his fingertips. The stars are peeking out from the night sky, all awaiting his next move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their targets don’t suspect a thing. Amateur robbers, thinking that they can climb up to a roof and everyone beneath them suddenly disappears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seokmin gives the final alert, and the team rushes in on the targets, closing them in from all edges. Chan descends on them effortlessly, interrupting their wicked laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of their unspoken rules goes that the less pain inflicted, the better. They have weapons they gravitate to, but it's better to leave those behind if they can. Force is always the last resort, and only necessary if it would give them an upper hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tonight, he has only his bare hands as he draws near his target. Chan stands solid on his feet, and leans forward slightly as he delivers a quick blow to the nose, and then another one targeting their front to send them back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the rare occasion, this unspoken rule backfires on Chan, because the enemy is more experienced than anticipated. There’s blood trickling from their nose, and it takes a moment, but they’re standing up and rushing towards him. Chan dodges swiftly one second, and he's pushed to the ground the next.

</span></p><p>
  <span>Everything happens so fast - he’s reaching desperately for his pepper spray and trying to push off the assailant as they're fighting to rip off his mask. He digs his head further into the ground, as if it would suddenly open up and give him way to escape - and then everything comes to a standstill as Soonyoung comes up from behind, and knocks them out with a baton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're welcome," says Soonyoung, a trace of sarcasm in his voice, but mostly relief. Chan scrambles to get back on his own two feet before tackling him into a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soonyoung holds him back tighter, and whispers against his hair. "Just knock them out next time, okay? Don't get into any trouble and don't make us worry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, hyung," Chan says back, letting go and taking in Soonyoung's gaze. "You'll never have to worry about me again." And he means it, because in the back of his mind he thinks faintly of Hansol and Seungkwan, and how he wouldn’t want them to see him coming home in bruises again. He has to be able to take care of himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around them, the rest of the criminals lay still across the rooftop, and the treasure is left alone in the open air. Chan slowly walks over to retrieve the stolen goods, taken directly from unjust infiltration of innocent homes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re all stealing from the wrong people,” Chan says, mostly to himself, marveling at the sight around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeonghan must overhear him, because he starts snickering. “Wow. You almost sounded cool there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” he says back, and would say something more witty, except his phone vibrates in his pocket then. He immediately takes it out to check, since their mission is finished, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kids these days. Always on their phones," says Soonyoung, sharing a disappointed glance with Jeonghan. Before Chan can reach over to flick him on the forehead, Seokmin grabs onto his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mind them, Chan. They wouldn't know what love feels like,” Seokmin says sweetly, as Soonyoung starts sputtering. "You have a crush, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan opens his mouth and intends to deny him. Nothing comes out, and they all look at him knowingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Chan settles for a simple, "Maybe." Seokmin's smile only grows wider towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a late Saturday afternoon, and Chan finds himself sitting between Seungkwan and Hansol, all hunched over a laptop screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here it is,” Chan says, pulling up a web browser. “This is the shelter that my friends work at.” Sure enough, there’s a picture of Wonwoo surrounded by cats displayed on the front page. He scrolls down a little further to see a picture of Seokmin, too, delicately holding a dog’s paw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wait,” says Hansol. He leans in slightly, and Chan tries not to think about how close his bare knee is. “This is the shelter that our friend Junhui works at, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh. Small world,” Chan says. “Then you must know how good they are already. They’ll definitely help you in finding a good match.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan starts scrolling through the list of dogs available for adoption, and keeps stealing glances at Seungkwan. His smile grows wider with every single small white dog they learn more about. And it turns out Hansol is more of a cat person, because the first thing he searches for is whether or not the dog is good with other animals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their excitement stirs something in Chan, too. He’s always wanted to take care of a pet, but he wouldn’t want to leave them in his lonely apartment for hours on end. Plus his plants keep him occupied enough, anyway, but he thinks Hansol and Seungkwan would be lovely pet parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly there’s a loud growling noise, and Chan turns his neck suspiciously between Seungkwan and Hansol, the latter of whom has his lips pressed together in a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hungry?” says Seungkwan, and Hansol laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a little,” admits Hansol. “Do you guys wanna go get some food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan doesn’t think twice before closing the laptop and saying yes. “What are you in the mood for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a thoughtful humming noise from Seungkwan. “Hey, don’t you work at a restaurant?” he says, tilting his head to the side, oblivious to the way Chan’s heart almost stops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I do,” says Chan eventually. He clears his throat. “Why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always wanted to see where you worked! It’s within walking distance, right? Why don’t we go try it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I guess we could go if you guys really wanted. But I think there are more interesting places in the city. This restaurant only serves traditional foods-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds great. I’ve been craving some hangover stew,” says Hansol excitedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the soup at the restaurant is really good, Chan knows that and would love for Hansol to try it sometime, except his brain is foggy and struggling to lie his way out of this one–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready to go,” Hansol says, slinging his bag over his shoulder and taking Seungkwan’s hand. Then they’re both nodding eagerly at Chan. “Lead the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan thinks that it was inevitable for his lies to catch up with him, when they weren’t very stable lies to begin with. He ends up taking Hansol and Seungkwan to the restaurant that he frequents with the rest of the SVT, all for one single reason. Within this restaurant, there is one saving grace in this world, and his name is Joshua Hong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me go in and get us a table first,” Chan says sweetly, and slips into the restaurant before they can say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon entering, his eyes immediately scan the room. As usual, Joshua waves enthusiastically at him from the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chan! Where are your friends?” says Joshua. His smile fades as Chan stomps over to him with unnecessary force, and wastes no time pulling him to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If anyone asks,” Chan whispers hurriedly into Joshua’s ear, “I have been working at this restaurant for six months and I always come home from closing really late. It also gets really hot in the back because there's no air con. But otherwise, act normal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan watches for any traces of confusion on Joshua’s face. Though his eyes are slightly narrowed, Joshua nods slowly. “Act normal. Got it,” he says after a while. At that, Chan nods back, and steps back outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan and Hansol are standing exactly where Chan had left them. "Let's eat," says Chan, before grabbing them by their hands and dragging them to his corner of the restaurant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he doesn’t realize how firmly he’s holding onto both Seungkwan and Hansol’s hands until they’re already in front of the booth. When Hansol gives him a slightly curious look, Chan drops their hands like he’s suddenly realizing they’ve been on fire. He slips into the booth and pointedly distracts himself by looking at the menu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll order for all of us,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re that confident that you know our orders?” says Hansol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I just want to make sure we order all of my favorites while you guys are paying,” says Chan quickly. He’s only half-sarcastic, and Hansol laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan, on the other hand, gapes at him. "Absolutely not! Give me that," he says, reaching across the table to snatch the menu out of Chan's hands, even though there's a perfectly good menu to the side of the table. Chan will not give up without a fight (though he makes sure not to damage any property because Joshua does not deserve that).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's so ridiculous, and they're so stupid, but it feels familiar and it makes him happy as he dangles the menu over Seungkwan's hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just when Chan is thinking that nothing could ever go wrong with Seungkwan and Hansol, he picks up an all too familiar voice from the entrance of the restaurant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You two are here too? You guys know there are other restaurants around here, right?" says Joshua.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But nobody would treat us the way that you do," comes a sickeningly sweet voice. It is unmistakably Jeonghan, and Chan can clearly picture the way Joshua rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, shit," Chan says, his soul mentally leaving his body. Seungkwan finally takes hold of the menu, and gives a small celebratory noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Soonyoung's voice echoes loud and clear and horribly robotic throughout the restaurant. "Oh. My god. Is that Chan?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And no matter how hard Chan tries to erase the two from his current line of vision, Jeonghan and Soonyoung stand themselves tall right in front of their table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Chan says, almost hissing while Seungkwan and Hansol look slightly worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soonyoung and Jeonghan shrug at him in unison. “We were hungry,” says Soonyoung, blinking rapidly. He's always been a terrible liar. This is all Wonwoo’s fault for insisting that they keep their locations updated for each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's so crazy that we would run into each other here," says Jeonghan, drawing out his words with a lopsided smirk. “I’m Chan’s-” he pauses very slightly, a guile shine to his eyes as he introduces himself, “Co-worker. Are you two Seungkwan and Hansol? Chan talks about you guys all the time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan shakes his head furiously. "No, I don't." He pointedly looks towards Seungkwan and Hansol, and ignores the other two even as Soonyoung reaches over to squeeze his shoulders. "He's lying. All he does is lie."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, that’s a shame,” says Hansol smiling absentmindedly, for reasons beyond Chan’s understanding. “Yes, we are the neighbors. I am Hansol. This is my boyfriend, Seungkwan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s so great to meet you. My name is Soonyoung. I’ve known Chan since he was a tiny baby. More than he is right now. You can ask me anything-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You guys came to eat, not talk with us, remember?" Chan interrupts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh no, they can stay," says Seungkwan, elbows on the table, chin resting on his folded hands, and a devilish smile on his lips. "I would love to listen to these stories."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Soonyoung almost bounces into the booth next to Chan, but Jeonghan grips onto his sleeve and pulls him back. “As much as we would love to,” says Jeonghan, raising his eyebrows at Soonyoung, “we wouldn’t want to interrupt your date. But make sure to invite us properly next time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next time, then! It was nice to meet you,” Hansol says, giving a casual wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.” With that, Jeonghan throws a wink so charming that somehow even Chan is blushing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soonyoung doesn’t hide his offense as he glares at Jeonghan, but lets his body be dragged away anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They seem nice,” Seungkwan says, nodding happily and going back to the menu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only once Seungkwan and Hansol are asking him about the best main dishes - once Chan has finally calmed down from the storm that is Soonyoung and Jeonghan - that Chan realizes the implications behind Jeonghan’s words. That Jeonghan had said this was a date, and neither Seungkwan nor Hansol rushed to deny it. That they had both been more than willing to sit with Chan’s friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scariest part of everything, Chan realizes, is that he doesn’t particularly mind the thought. That is - being with Seungkwan and Hansol, if they would let him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization unfolds and blooms throughout all of his body - it hits when their hands brush as Seungkwan is scooping rice into his bowl, as Hansol’s foot knocks gently against his under the table, when he watches Hansol feed Seungkwan and thinks that it’s the cutest thing ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the feeling doesn’t let go of him the entire time they’re walking back. Chan is all too aware of how their shoulders linger so close to each other. He thinks briefly that whenever they’re next to each other, Hansol and Seungkwan are holding hands, but they don’t seem to mind the way they are now, not letting Chan escape from the middle of their sandwich.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They drop Chan off at his door, and then Chan finally notices that the loving gaze that they had always reserved for each other, is suddenly geared towards him. Chan closes the door behind him, and then immediately sinks to the ground because he has to pause and take everything in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan swears that if he were to ever die at the hands of anyone, he never would have expected it to be by these two perfectly normal people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soonyoung also texts him that night, a relentless spamming of how attractive both Hansol and Seungkwan are, and all Chan can type back is “I KNOW”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as he lets these thoughts ruminate the next few days and nights, it’s no surprise that he ends up running. He runs and lets his pulse take over the sound of his own thoughts. And he runs and he runs and as usual, he ends up at Soonyoung’s door, knocking furiously and in desperate need of someone to listen to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opens, and he’s about to tackle Soonyoung into a hug, except Soonyoung isn’t there. It’s Seungcheol, who doesn’t look surprised to see him in the slightest. He gives him a shy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, hyung,” says Chan, and wonders if Seungcheol notices how much he’s fidgeting in place. “Is Soonyoung not here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he’s out right now. I’m pretty sure he’s at your studio,” Seungcheol says patiently, and Chan curses when he remembers that tonight was, in fact, Soonyoung’s working day. “Are you alright? Did you need something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Chan thinks if it were anybody else, he would have already politely excused himself and ran all the back home. But Seungcheol is tilting his head slightly downward, and his lips form a gentle, welcoming smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan doesn’t have to say anything. His emotions must be written all over his body language, because Seungcheol says, “Come in. You like jasmine tea, right?” He slips away before Chan can even say yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he finds himself on Soonyoung and Seungcheol’s couch, tapping at his thighs and trying to shake away his nerves. Chan has spent a lot of time messing around here and doing absolutely nothing with Soonyoung, back when they were much younger. Now Soonyoung has grown up, and it shows in the sharpness of the lines on his face, but he hasn’t lost any of the joy he has when he looks at the world. Chan thinks that Seungcheol has had a lot to do with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungcheol is the perfect boyfriend to Soonyoung, but also simply one of the most perfect friends that anybody could ask for. If Chan really thinks about it, there isn’t anybody else who would be better suited to answering his lingering questions, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so as soon as Seungcheol sets down their tea, Chan hurriedly asks, “Hyung, what is it like dating a vigilante?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungcheol smiles a little at him. If he’s taken back by the question, he doesn’t show it. “You want the real answer or should I sugarcoat it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan swallows. “Just hit me with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungcheol keeps his hands clasped together on the table. “It’s…” he starts, pausing briefly, “...rough. Sometimes you wake up and it’s a lot, and sometimes you just forget about it. But on the days that I do remember - on days where Soonyoung doesn’t come home when he’s supposed to - it feels really, really scary. It makes me sick to my stomach.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I think I get that. I think that's how I feel about it myself. But in the end, it’s been worth it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Absolutely. I think it takes some time to adjust, but if I love Soonyoung I have to love him for his…” Seungcheol trails off, making wild hand motions, “night escapades, illegal antics, vigilantism, whatever you wanna call it - it’s all who he is. I can’t take that away from him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan pauses. He hesitates before he voices his thoughts, the question that’s been anchoring itself in his brain. “So… so if I wanted to date someone, would I be able to make it work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Seungcheol lilts, leaning in closer. “Well, if Soonyoung has made it work with me, I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan lets out a breath. "You really think so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, a playful, fond smile tugs at Seungcheol's lips. “Honestly, you’d probably do a better job as a boyfriend than Soonyoung. Sometimes he’s stubborn and tries to hide things from me. But I think you’d be very transparent with your partners, once they know your secret. Actually, you’d probably be bragging about all of your achievements every day to them. You would never shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan thinks about making the same jabs at Soonyoung, or gushing about how much they love each other, or getting pouty at Seungcheol’s (very true) accusations, but his brain can only fixate on one word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Partners,” Chan repeats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Partners,” says Seungcheol. His eyes are all-knowing, and wonderfully warm and sincere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyung,” says Chan, and he thinks he might cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just make sure you tell them as soon as possible,” says Seungcheol sternly, before he’s wrapping him in an embrace. “And drink the tea, it’s gonna get cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Chan thinks that he’s never had anyone - not in that Soonyoung has Seungcheol, or even in the way that Seokmin and Wonwoo quietly have each other. But in all of his life, he’s never come close to even thinking about having someone like that. And now, as he looks between what Hansol and Seungkwan share with each other, he can’t think of anything else that he would want more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few weeks after his conversation with Seungcheol, Chan is reminded about what it really means to live a life as his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moon watches over his pitiful body on someone’s stupid Seongbuk-dong rooftop, and he can’t tell anybody because nobody knows who he is. He can’t call for help, because then he would have to reveal himself as somebody who never belonged to this district, as somebody who took so much more than he gave from this place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite all, Chan knows he should be grateful. He is aware that the assailants could have easily killed him, but left him only with several slashes through his clothes - perhaps this was an even more cruel punishment, because it meant he would lay here alone and bleeding out into the cold night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soonyoung’s voice echoes in his head, then, and hurts more than anything else. Don’t get into any trouble. Don’t make us worry. Don’t hesitate next time. Chan hadn’t even realized he was stabbed until it was too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone rings, breaking the silence in the air. It takes a lot of adjustment, and every part of his body aches, but eventually he manages to lift his phone to his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Wonwoo, who kept insisting to him that he didn’t have to take on this mission so early, that they could have given it more time and coordinated with the rest of the team. Wonwoo, who eventually gave in and let Chan complete this on his own because he believed in him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How'd it go, Chan?" asks Wonwoo. His voice is familiar, deep and caring and warm, and Chan suddenly wants to see him so much, wants to let himself be comforted by someone who understands what it’s like to live in the shadows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he manages, "It was fine. I'm heading home now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay. Good job. Text me when you get back, alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure, hyung. Bye."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the last of his strength, Chan hangs up the phone, and then collapses onto the ground. He takes off his mask and wants to let out a loud cry, but his voice would carry too far into the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's losing a lot of blood fast, and he curses himself for being unprepared. He should have known that the assailant was waiting for him, should have known that he would be ambushed if he went alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan takes off his shirt and winces as he uses it to apply pressure to the wound, and lets the fabric soak up the blood. This is only the second time he’s had to do something like this, but there should never have been a first time to begin with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hurts, but it isn’t life-threatening enough to draw attention from the team. Chan has seen the way all of his hyungs have braved through the worst of the worst pain, and he has to be capable of doing the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lays on the roof for a little longer until he musters the strength to pull himself up, and start walking home. The back streets of the city are always still at this time of the night, yellow street lamps and neon business signs welcoming him like an old friend. Chan makes it through the night, all the way back to his apartment complex in a neighboring district. Time passes, and he walks for so long that he forgets his body is in pain, and it all feels too good to be true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except, tonight there's someone sitting at the bottom of the staircase to his apartment. It’s so dark outside that Chan doesn’t realize until it’s too late, and he freezes as he makes direct eye contact with Hansol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His bloody shirt is loosely tied around the wound, and the bruises and cuts on his skin are utterly exposed, and the color of his eyes must be blood red, and Hansol is right there. He should have known he couldn't get away with this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We gotta stop meeting like this," Chan says with a nervous laugh, and almost starts choking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol looks at him for a long time, and raises an eyebrow. “And you gotta stop coming home like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan opens his mouth and nothing comes out. It's too late into the night and his brain feels dizzier by the second, and there's literally no way that Hansol doesn't see right through him, doesn’t already have him figured out. His body is physically aching, but it doesn't compare to the weight of all of the lies he's told, and how they've come right back piercing through his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Chan has learned that unlike Seungkwan or even himself, Hansol doesn't push. If something doesn't involve him, then it's none of his business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The problem is, now, that Chan does want to involve Hansol.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol says, "I won't ask, so don't worry about it. But if Seungkwan wasn’t out right now, he would be throwing a fit over you." Then, he stands up and nods towards the direction of his apartment. "Come on in. I'll help you clean up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Chan doesn’t make any movements, Hansol patiently takes him by the hand and walks them to his door. His hand is warm, and Chan feels almost as if he’s melting into the tender touch, allowing himself to sink into the comfort of Hansol and Seungkwan's home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol sits him down on his couch. He leaves to retrieve supplies, but not without telling Chan softly that he’ll be right back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The apartment holds a different atmosphere in the dimly lit night, but it’s still undeniably Hansol and Seungkwan, a muted warmth. The houseplant they had gotten is turning brown around the edges, which means Hansol wasn’t listening and had been watering too generously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol returns with an oversized shirt. It’s difficult to even lift his arms up, but Hansol helps him through it easily, doesn’t let his eyes wander anywhere they’re not supposed to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close your eyes,” says Hansol softly, and Chan obliges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels a wet cloth press against the sides of his face, then around his neck, to the dips within his fingers and all of the edges of his torso.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re really kind to me,” Chan mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol shakes his head humbly. “It’s what anybody would do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s not true."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't know that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I do know that. I’ve come home so many times with blood running down my face, and still nobody would spare me a second glance."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol takes a sharp breath then. “Well, that isn’t right. You deserve more people to help you out. Because that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Trying to help others?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan pauses for a moment, lets himself take in the sincerity in Hansol’s voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess that it is what I’m doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then this is my way of saying thank you. It’s on behalf of everyone you’ve ever helped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night falls quietly over them as Chan lets himself be gingerly taken care of, the heat from Hansol’s fingertips keeping him warm inside and out. Vaguely, he remembers a blanket being tucked into his sides, and his head lifted comfortably onto a pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he remembers as he’s drifting off, Hansol ever so gently whispering his ear, “I care about you, you know... We care about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan wakes up to the smell of something savory in the air. It reminds him too much of his childhood, where his parents would always have a home cooked meal waiting for him in the early morning. He would never have to ask, and comfort would always be there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still in Hansol and Seungkwan’s apartment, still sprawled across their living room couch. In the kitchen he sees Seungkwan wearing a polka dot apron and singing a girl group song. He must be trying to stay as quiet as possible, so as not to disturb a sleeping Chan, but also loud enough to entertain Hansol, who’s sitting at the counter. He’s stirring a mug and watching Seungkwan through sleepy, but warm eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shifts his body slightly, and the reminder of his brutal attack from the night before hits him like a wave. He can't help but let a noise out in pain, but he disguises it as a disgruntled, morning yawn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan and Hansol immediately turn towards him. "Good morning, sleepyhead," says Hansol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're finally awake!" Seungkwan says, then slips into a chastising tone. "Hansol said you fell asleep on our couch while you guys were watching a movie. You really gotta stop working such late hours."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Briefly, Chan's gaze drifts over to Hansol, who isn't looking at him or anything, really. Then he looks at his own body, which is drowning in an oversized, long sleeve shirt. It is clean and it is not covered in blood. It looks like it belongs to Hansol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, hyung,” Chan says, and tries to keep his voice steady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morning light is suddenly too blinding for him, and he becomes reminded of the aching in his worn bones. He shouldn’t be here at their apartment. He doesn’t belong here, not in the warm and safe atmosphere of their home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I should probably get back to my place," he says, trying not to wither as he sits up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can stay,” says Hansol quickly. His voice is firm, as is his sudden gaze towards Chan. “Seungkwan is making us veggie pancakes. It’s really not a problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Chan doesn’t say anything, Seungkwan chimes in, albeit a little less lively than usual. “What are you thinking so hard for? Oh my god, do you not like pancakes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that feeling comes back, swirling into his chest and leaving warmth wherever it goes. It motivates him to push harder against the physical pain. “You’re a fool if you think I would say no to pancakes,” says Chan, looking down. “Just - let me go back to my place and take a shower first. I feel a little gross.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. But hurry up, or the pancakes will get cold!” says Seungkwan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t miss the way Hansol’s gaze lingers on his retreating form, but he focuses more on getting out the doorway in one piece. It helps that he doesn’t seem to have any more open wounds, but the bruises are starting to take their shape and color on his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan stands for a little too long in the shower, and allows himself to breathe through all of his scars. They have become a part of him now, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he comes back, Seungkwan and Hansol continue their conversation as if he had never left. Seungkwan launches into an animated story of his karaoke night out with Jihoon and Junhui, and Hansol quietly sets out a plate and utensils in front of Chan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vegetable pancakes are no longer warm, and they are also a little burnt, but he thinks it’s one of the best breakfasts he’s had in a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan struggles to remember if that night had ever actually happened, because Hansol doesn’t acknowledge any of it. Nothing changes, just as Hansol had promised him that night. Hansol and Seungkwan are as happy as ever, and even happier when they run into Chan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was something soft and unspoken in Hansol’s gaze that night. It had told Chan that whenever he was ready, that Seungkwan and Hansol would be ready for him, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They have to know that he’s hiding something. But the more that Chan knows about them, the more Chan realizes that his secret wouldn’t matter. They have already accepted him for who he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows for a fact that he would never give up his role in SVT, so long as the team would accept him. Because no matter how much physical pain he has endured, it would never match up to what the people have suffered at the expense of billionaires, waiting for people like him to take back and claim the city. This is what he was born to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But maybe, just maybe, Chan thinks that he wouldn’t mind having someone who he could come home to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And everything with Seungkwan and Hansol falls together so easily, it shouldn’t be a surprise when all of this happens so naturally, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a perfect day. Chan had taken them out to one of his favorite parks in their neighborhood, and they spent a lot of time at the dog park. Hansol and Seungkwan are still looking into eventually adopting a pet, but they’ve decided to hold off for now. And after, they end up at one of the restaurants they’ve been wanting to try off of their extensive list, and he isn’t embarrassed to stuff his face in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now, they’re huddled up together on Seungkwan and Hansol’s couch, and it was really only ever meant for two people. The TV screen is paused to the ending credits of an anime movie that they had just watched. At this point, Chan would already be getting up and stretching out his arms, making sure that his shirt never rided up, and then heading out for the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But tonight, he doesn’t want to hold anything back anymore. Tonight, his fingers have been carefully dancing around both Hansol and Seungkwan’s hands, and he finally lets them meet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan takes a deep breath, his heart threatening to plummet out of his chest. And he starts slowly, but then all at once, "I think I might like you. Both of you. Would that be okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” says Seungkwan. He’s trying to act disinterested, his bottom lip jutting out slightly, but Chan tell his eyes are soft. “I don’t know, Chan. Do you think it’d be okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyung, what does that even mean? I asked you first, you–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Hansol says, interrupting them and fully intertwining their fingers. “It would be more than okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Chan says, and his eyes must be so stupidly wide as he looks between the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really,” Seungkwan says, laughing and giving up his facade. There’s a pretty pink blush across his cheeks that Chan can finally admire from up close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan squeezes their hands so tight, he thinks he’s close to breaking them completely. But he has one more thing to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I have to tell you guys something first. Would that be okay, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just as easily, right before they both press a soft kiss to his lips, Hansol says, "We thought you'd never ask."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chan has found himself in a little bit of trouble again. He might have gotten ahead of himself, fueled on by unfounded energy. The rush of adrenaline through his blood still hasn’t subsided, even once he's stopped in front of his destination. He doesn't have anywhere else to go, and he realizes there isn't anywhere else he would rather be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opens, and the familiar sight of Hansol and Seungkwan already makes everything feel easier, makes him feel almost invincible. But Chan realizes that they aren't used to the sight of him like this - protective clothes torn apart, blood running down the sides of his face, actual arrows piercing into his shoulder, all in the broad daylight - by the way their faces quickly turn pale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a beat, Seungkwan turns to Hansol. "Why are we just standing here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hansol looks between Seungkwan and Chan, eyes wide and terrified. “I don’t know what to do,” says Hansol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you mean you don't know what to do?" Seungkwan says harshly to Hansol. "Didn't your sister ever get hurt when you were on the playground?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, we were homeschooled and didn't really go to playgrounds-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh my god, how are we gonna raise kids if you don't know basic first aid?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean, I do know first aid, but I wouldn't say this is considered basic-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Guys," interrupts Chan, heaving. "I’m gonna… go lay down now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan nods furiously, rushing to support his side. "Yes. Sorry. Let's get you to bed. Our bed. Okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Seungkwan is yelling at Hansol to speed up his emergency internet search, he's navigating like a grandparent, and Hansol is calmly saying that he's doing his best. Chan can feel the way his body will surely go through hell and back, but all he can think about is how the bed sheets are warm and smell distinctly like Seungkwan and Hansol's clothes, and all he wants is to kiss them. 

And then he's reminded that just a few days ago, Chan had realized that these two people have somehow taken a liking to him, too. Everything about this brings a stupid, goofy smile to his face, to which Seungkwan yelps, “This is not the time to be smiling so cutely!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the dust settles and he makes it out of this alive, Chan figures he’ll have a lot of explaining to do. Still, he thinks that it’ll all turn out okay, because Hansol and Seungkwan (his boyfriends, though it’ll still take a little bit for him to get used to saying out loud) are more understanding than they maybe should be. For now, Chan lets himself smile through it all.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>op thank you for your glorious mind. i had a lot of fun writing this and hope that i didn't totally butcher the prompt! this was also loosely based off of a video game, so let me know if you caught which one ;)</p><p>thank you dearly for making it this far, and thank you to the mods for organizing this fest!!! you can find me and my endless love for maknaes on <a href="https://twitter.com/seokkisses">twitter</a> &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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